The Sorting Hat's Rude Song
by Lillia-Lillia
Summary: It started out as a normal Sorting, just like any other year. But then the Sorting Hat got offensive.


**Summary: **It started out like a normal Sorting, just like any other year. But then the Sorting Hat got offensive.

**Author's Note: **Doubly inspired by and written for Lil'MissChris's Sorting Hat Competition and CBlack19's Spells Competition (Riddikulus) on HPFC. The year is 1990; exactly one year prior to Harry's admittance to Hogwarts. I also had a few formatting issues and had to resort to using periods to break up the verses. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Harry Potter

**The Sorting Hat's Rude Song**

Late in the evening on the First of September, it was always the same. A trembling line of First Years streamed into the Great Hall, some looking anxious, others looking downright ready to pee themselves. It was quite cruel, really, to subject children to the judgmental stares of the entire student body and teaching staff alike. But if you weren't one of the shaking little wretches in line, it was actually rather funny.

"Twitchier each year, they get, I tell you." Oliver Wood mused, leaning over to mutter in Angelina Johnson's ear. The dark girl nodded, eyes tracking a First Year with a bit of toilet paper stuck to his shoe. Over at the Slytherin table, Marcus Flint stifled a laugh when a First Year face-planted right in front of him.

At the front of the Hall, beneath the magnificent enchanted ceiling, Professor McGonagall looked severe as ever. She set a ratty old hat atop a sturdy wooden stool, holding a role of parchment between her fingers. All chatter died away as everyone was eager to hear what kind of cutesy little song the Sorting Hat had come up with this year. Because that's what it did. Every year, there was a cutesy song. Always the same.

Until this year.

A wide rip near the brim opened up like a mouth. Two folds near the top crinkled forming a set of very angry eyes. Shock was evident on several candle-lit faces as the Hat seemed to glare around at the crowd. A few people gasped "Merlin!" when the Hat visibly sneered at them. After a brief pause, the Hat drew a deep breath and belted out its song.

.

_"'My goodness, that's disgusting!'_

_'Don't put that hat on me!' _

_Well, let's see just how good you look _

_When you've lived for centuries._

_.  
_

_I know I'm frayed and patchy_

_And I reek a funny smell,_

_I might be crawling with a louse or two_

_But to that I say 'Oh well.'_

_.  
_

_I'll give you nasty hat hair,_

_I'll wreck your plaits and dreads,_

_Regardless of your silly hair-do_

_I'll be placed upon your heads._

_.  
_

_For someone has to do it,_

_Though it is a nasty chore,_

_Someone has to split each year_

_Into equal Houses four._

_.  
_

_The Founders, they were genius,_

_And with complex magic signed,_

_They made me a master Legilimens,_

_Now I open up your minds._

_.  
_

_But first I'll share a secret,_

_It's the truth, and not some scheme,_

_Our beloved Founders, the Hogwarts Four_

_Were not quite what they seemed."_

_.  
_

The students were exchanging some pointed and amused looks with each other. Over at the Hufflepuff table, Cedric Diggory was scratching his head. "What's gotten into the Sorting Hat?" he whispered.

Seventh Year Nymphadora Tonks was grinning and shaking her head, casing the tips of her hair to twinge green. "Clearly it woke up on the wrong side of the _hat stand_ this morning!"

But the Hat was moving on. It shifted its attention to the Gryffindor table before singing even louder.

.

"_First let's start with Godric,_

_The arrogant, red-clad knight, _

_Please don't mistake 'bravery'_

_For picking loads of fights._

_.  
_

_Rowdy and belligerent, _

_Short-tempered as could be,_

_And I hold him responsible _

_For the death of chivalry._

_.  
_

_Though manners, they were valued,_

_Back in days of yore, _

_Godric loved the bottle 'til_

_He puked up on the floor._

_.  
_

_So all you crimson lions,_

_With truth you've been informed,_

_I hope your views of Gryffindor_

_Have been thoroughly transformed."_

.

Professor Mcgonagall's thin-lipped mouth was frozen into a small 'o'. Behind her, Professor Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, a bemused smile playing on his lips. Down at the Gryffindor table, the two rows of young lions were shaking with silent laughter.

"This is brilliant. Pinch me, Fred, is this really happening?" George Weasley managed to eke out. His brother was out of commission, doubled up and banging his goblet against the table, unable to speak.

Across from the twins, Lee Jordan stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Godric was an _alcoholic_? Conveniently left _that_ little factoid out of the History of Magic curriculum, did they?"

Percy Weasley was the only Gryffindor who didn't look amused. "I have half a mind to put a stop to this. It's an absolute travesty…"

But the Hat had already forgotten Gryffindor. It turned slightly, fixing its steely gaze on the Ravenclaw Table.

.

"_Now I turn attention,_

_To lovely Ravenclaw,_

_I know secrets 'bout her that_

_Would really drop your jaw._

_.  
_

_Rowena, she was learned,_

_She knew every spell and hex,_

_She was also skilled in basic things_

_Like pleasures of the flesh._

_.  
_

_Sprawled across her bedspread,_

_Hair cascading down her back,_

_She'd pull her nose out from her books_

_And hop right in the sack._

_.  
_

_Does that shock you Eagles_

_That your Founder oft' got frisky?_

_I suggest you ease the blow_

_With a shot of Fire Whiskey."_

.

The Ravenclaws were positively beaming. "Did you hear that? Our Founder was a _slut_! Brilliant!"

Somewhere near the middle of the table, Roger Davies grinned lecherously. "Our Rowena's got the three B's—Beauty, Brains and Bedroom skills! _Wicked_!"

Up at the staff table, Professor Flitwick clapped his tiny hands, looking positively delighted and proud.

The rest of the school cast glances about, wondering which remaining House would be on the chopping block next. They got their answer when the Hat rounded on Hufflepuff.

.

"_This leads me to the badgers,_

_Those yellow-wearing misfits, _

_The dotty dimwits and the daft_

_All went to Helga's district. _

_.  
_

_Hufflepuffs, don't hate me,_

_I loved dear Helga so,_

_Even if her blockhead young_

_Were certifiably slow._

_.  
_

_Though Helga, she was lovely,_

_Far too much she'd eat,_

_And in her bag she always lugged _

_A fully-cooked roast beef._

_.  
_

_Thick-wasted and enormous,_

_Her steps made the ground shake,_

_Helga was responsible for_

_Seventeen earthquakes."_

.

The Hufflepuffs were positively beaming. "Helga must've been really great, you know," a Second Year boy whispered eagerly to his friend. "All the Hat could do was call her fat and waste two entire verses insulting _us_!"

Further down, Nymphadora Tonks ballooned her face to five times its normal size, peering at her friends through beady, squinted eyes.

Hagrid was enjoying himself up at the staff table. "A _roast_ in her bag, eh? I could go for one right about now meself!" He jovially elbowed Professor Sprout in the ribs, knocking her sidelong into Madam Sinistra.

And finally, with bated breath, they waited for the assault on Slytherin.

.

"_And that leaves dear old Salazar,_

_And Pure-Bloods, he did treasure,_

_Sad it is that the meanest Founder_

_Is accurately remembered._

_.  
_

_Eyes just like a demon,_

_Hair hung to his waist,_

_The differences were hard to spot_

'_Tween his face and an ape's._

_.  
_

_He called some children 'Mudblood,'_

_He spoke in Parseltounge,_

_And from his ideology_

_Much evilness has sprung._

_.  
_

_Yes, Slytherin was a mad one,_

_His mind was quite undone,_

_But just how long does sanity last_

_When you live deep in a dungeon?"_

_.  
_

In a matter of seconds, all eyes snapped up to Professor Snape, Hogwarts' own modern day, resident dungeon bat. Inky hair hung in his face like an oily curtain as he glared at the student body. He silently dared _anybody_ to hold eye contact with him. Wisely, anyone he looked at immediately became very interested in the floor.

The Slytherin students, on the other hand, appeared far more entertained than their Head of House. Adrian Pucey pulled on his ears and stuck out his tongue like a monkey. Bole and Derrick hissed at each other like a pair of snakes. They quickly hushed, however, when the Sorting Hat began its conclusion.

.

"_I assume I held your interest,_

_There's a chance I taught you brats._

_Now I'm not one to gamble but_

_Even I would bet on that._

_.  
_

_But now the games are over,_

_The Sorting must commence,_

_So try me on and I promise that_

_The pain's not too intense!"_

_.  
_

There was a brief, ringing silence following the Hat's last word. But then, explosively, the Great Hall erupted into applause, cheers and laughter. Nearly everyone gave the Sorting Hat a standing ovation. The First Years, on the other hand, seemed even more terrified than before. Some looked ready to run for it upon hearing that the Sorting would be painful.

All the chatter died away as Professor Dumbledore stood up, the tip of his long beard resting in his golden goblet. "A fascinating Sorting song this year, I think you'll all agree. We have been fortunate enough to witness the tenth anniversary of the Sorting Hat's Rude Song!" He beamed, blue eyes sweeping across the sea of pale faces, as if expecting some sort of reaction. Receiving none, he continued. "Every one hundred years, on the ninetieth year of each century, the Sorting Hat abandons its usual complimentary poetry in favor of more—ah—insulting verses. Sadly, I missed the Rude Song of 1890 by two years, and thus consider this to have bern a real treat! I commend all of you on taking the Hat's very _choice_ wording in stride. Very well done. Now! Onto more pressing matters. The Sorting, if you please, Professor McGonagall."

McGonagall inclined her head slightly and unfurled the long roll of parchment. "Bell, Katie."

The small girl edged her way out of line to try on the now benign-looking hat. It fell right over her eyes and right to her shoulders. There was a brief pause, and then…

"_GRYFFINDOR!_"


End file.
